A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy)

by Lana Williams

  With a heavy sigh, Alyna turned back to her needlework. The gray thread had tangled and knotted as surely as her thoughts. She studied the dark strands, certain she should’ve chosen a different color. This one reminded her too much of Royce’s eyes, the blue-gray of storm clouds.

  Royce wasn’t the only reason for her confused thoughts. She’d awakened that morning determined to speak with her grandfather regarding the questions that had burned in her mind since Royce had taken her. She’d ventured into the hall early, but none of the servants had seen him since the night before. At last she’d found one who had told her that he’d left before daybreak and wouldn’t return for several days.

  Alyna was disappointed and hurt that he’d said nothing to her of a trip last night when they’d conversed during supper. She’d nearly made an excuse to be absent from the meal as she grew tired of listening to Florence’s subtle digs. The improvements Alyna had made annoyed the woman to no end as had Blackwell’s approval of the changes.

  However, Alyna had no intention of allowing Florence to gain any advantage over her, especially with her grandfather. Their relationship was too new, and Alyna knew it couldn’t bear the weight of disapproval. She needed more time to prove her worth to him.

  She hadn’t felt prepared to face Royce either, but decided she wasn’t willing to hide like a mouse in a corner. Though she’d thought long and hard about how she should act with Royce, she’d come up with nothing clever, other than acting as though the kiss they’d shared had affected her little. Ha! That would be no easy task. Just thinking of the kiss now brought a blush to her cheeks.

  All the worry and nervousness had been for naught, as neither of the two people who complicated her life had bothered to come for the evening meal.

  So worried had she been about their imminent arrival, she hadn’t even attempted to broach her questions with her grandfather. Now she berated herself for the wasted opportunity.

  “Mama?” Concern laced her son’s voice, interrupting her thoughts.

  “What’s wrong, Nicholas?” One look at his expression told her it was something serious.

  He crossed the room from where he’d been playing with some wooden blocks that Charles had made for him and took her hand. “We need to go out,” he said.

  Unsure what bothered him, she smoothed a hand over his soft, dark hair and cupped his cheek. “Let me work a bit longer, and then we’ll go outside and find Charles. How does that sound?”

  “Nay, Mama. We need to go out now.” He pulled her hand, trying his best to get her to move.

  Something was bothering him and until she found out what it was, she decided it best to humor him. She set aside her needlework and stood, glancing out the window as she did so.

  She could see and hear Hugh, his size alone enough to make him obvious. She also recognized Matthew and Edward, who parried back and forth, one thrusting, the other blocking, then their roles reversed. They paused and Matthew removed his helm to wipe his brow. He glanced up and caught sight of her. With flourish, he bowed deep at the waist and sent her a grin. She smiled and waved in return.

  Edward looked up as well to see what held Matthew’s attention. He bowed his head and smiled. She acknowledged his greeting with a nod, but didn’t return his smile. He was another person she’d been avoiding at all costs. Perhaps it had just been the drink that had made him so bold, but she had no desire to find out.

  She recognized some of the other men but saw no sign of Royce. Had he left with her grandfather?

  “Mama, please,” Nicholas pleaded.

  “Show me what’s wrong, darling,” she told him, his hand firmly in hers.

  A shout from below stole her attention yet again. Nicholas dropped her hand and ran to look out the window, stretching up on his toes. Alyna lifted him and held him tight as she leaned out the window casement to offer them both a better view.

  The men gathered around someone lying on the ground. Her heart in her throat, she searched the crowd of men, but even at this distance, she knew Royce was still not among them. Surely the injured man couldn’t be him.

  “Oh, dear,” she muttered.

  “Hurry, Mama.”

  “Aye, we must hurry.” She set Nicholas down and fetched her bag with herbs and remedies for common injuries that Enid had brought from Montvue.

  As she and Nicholas hurried down the stairs, she could only hope her limited knowledge would aid the injured man.

  Enid stood with one foot on the stairs as though on her way to fetch Alyna. “There’s been a terrible accident, my lady,” she said as she plucked Nicholas off the bottom step.

  Alyna pushed through the small group gathered in the great hall and caught sight of a soldier lying prone on top of one of the long, oak tables.

  Her breath caught when she at last saw who it was. Matthew lay pale and still upon the table. How could this be? She had just seen him with that shy grin of his moments before. Blood coated the mail on his shoulder and as she neared, she could see more blood pooled near it. The links of mail had been split open. She could only wonder at the force of the blow that could penetrate the protection of the metal rings and cause so much damage.

  “Remove his mail as carefully as possible,” she directed one of the knights who stood nearby. “Enid, fetch some cloths and water.”

  Hugh stood near Matthew, worry etched upon his somber face, his blue eyes dark with concern.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  The big man helped ease the mail from the unconscious young knight, no easy task when a knight was awake and well, let alone when he lay motionless. One of the men on Matthew’s other side assisted him. “He was engaged in swordplay when something went amiss, my lady. I wasn’t watching them when it happened and from what I can garner, no one else seemed to be either.”

  Alyna waited impatiently as the two men completed their difficult task. Matthew remained unconscious. She felt the weight of a stare and looked up to see Edward’s gaze upon her from the back of the group. Had it been his sword that had struck this terrible blow? Even as the question formed in her mind, Edward looked away, his face blank of expression.

  At the moment, discovering the guilty party was not her concern. She hovered beside Hugh, helping when she could. At last the mail was off, and she realized the wound was even worse than she’d thought.

  Blood soaked Matthew’s aketon, staining the padded garment a bright crimson. She instructed Hugh to cut the side of it, taking care not to jostle his shoulder as its odd angle spoke of a broken bone. Her stomach turned at the sight of the bleeding wound, her concern for Matthew mounting. He remained unconscious, his color pale, his skin clammy to the touch.

  Enid handed her cloths and a basin of water, but as fast as she wiped away the blood, more took its place. Small links of steel and bits of thread were embedded in the wound. She dipped the linen in water and wrung it over the wound, washing away some of the pieces, but until the bleeding slowed, she couldn’t see well enough to remove them all.

  She looked for Edward, certain he was to blame, her anger at the extent of Matthew’s injuries guiding her gaze. But the knight was no longer in her line of vision.

  Alyna feared this task was beyond her modest skills. Panic clawed at her as blood soaked the cloth she pressed against the injury. The last time she’d seen this much blood had been when Myranda had died. She well knew that if the wound festered, it could lead to death.

  A deep breath did little to ease her fear that they would lose Matthew, but she focused on what needed to be done next. She folded clean strips of linen into thick pads and placed them over the wound. Hugh shifted Matthew so she could bind them in place, and she discovered the weapon had plunged through. “Oh, dear.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Hugh said as he looked at the wound on his back.

  “How bad is it, my lady?” Royce asked from beside her.

  Relief washed through her at the sight of him. “The sword penetrated his shoulder. He’s losing a lot of bl
ood. The front bone of his shoulder is broken.”

  Royce shook his head, his concern obvious. “Tell me how to help.”

  His steady regard gave her the confidence she needed. “We need to get the bleeding stopped so the wound can be cleaned. Pieces of mail and cloth are in there and the injury won’t heal properly until they’re removed.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “We should move him to where he’ll be more comfortable,” she suggested.

  “I’ll see to that. What else?” he asked.

  She blew out a breath to release the tension that gripped her. This wasn’t something she had to deal with alone; Royce was by her side. The thought steadied her, allowing her to think more clearly. “I need some supplies to prepare a remedy for the pain. Is there a healer in the village we could send for? Someone who would have the herbs I need?”

  Royce’s gaze left her face and rested on the still form of Matthew. “Mayhap we should send for Gunnell.”

  Hugh looked startled at the suggestion. “Gunnell? Surely not.” Turning toward Alyna, he asked, “Is there not more you can do for him, my lady?”

  Confused by their comments, Alyna sorted through her bag, though she knew exactly what it contained. She had marjoram to keep the swelling down, but no white willow to use if he developed a fever and very little of anything for his pain. “The few things I have won’t be enough.” She looked at Royce. “Is there a problem with the healer? If you feel she’ll do more harm than good, I’ll try my best, but I at least need supplies from her.”

  “Gunnell will have the herbs you need,” Royce said. “Hugh, go get her. Tell her she must come, that Lady Alyna needs her assistance.”

  “But, Royce–” Hugh began.

  “We can’t risk losing Matthew. Now go and be quick.”

  Hugh left with no further argument, but his expression told his thoughts well enough.

  “What is the problem with her?” Alyna asked.

  “She is a good healer, but there is some talk that she is...” Royce hesitated. “That is to say, she’s not quite...” He rubbed his chin with a finger. “Well, some say she’s crazed.”

  “Crazed?” Alyna repeated in amazement. “How so?”

  “You’ll understand after you meet her.” Royce gave a small shrug. “Shall we move him to a chamber?”

  “Aye.” As best she could, she pushed aside the concern that Royce’s comment raised.

  With the help of a few of the men, they moved Matthew to a small solar as gently as possible. The room was reserved for guests who stayed the night. A single narrow window allowed bright sunshine to stream in.

  Alyna sent everyone out of the room except for Royce and a maid, who helped remove Matthew’s boots and his remaining clothing. Alyna adjusted his pillow and pulled a blanket over his still form. The bandage would need to be changed soon, but hopefully the healer would arrive by then.

  The maid left to fetch some hot water and a few other things to use in preparation of a poultice Alyna wanted to make, assuming Gunnell had the herbs she needed. She checked her bag one last time to see if she’d overlooked anything.

  Then there was nothing to do but wait for Gunnell. Time crawled by as Alyna and Royce waited, both staring at the unconscious Matthew.

  Alyna’s gaze slid to Royce, wondering what his thoughts were. He was without his mail again today; his simple cream overtunic showed the breadth of his shoulders and emphasized his sun-darkened skin. She couldn’t help her attraction to him, no matter that he didn’t feel that way about her.

  She’d been so angry when he’d called their kiss a mistake. Angry and disappointed. How could she have thought for even a moment that a man like Royce might find her attractive? She had no attributes to hold his attention, and she would do well to remember that.

  The squeeze on her heart hurt, but how much worse would it feel if she grew to care for him? And, oh, she knew she could. She must guard her heart or risk losing it forever.

  Now was not the time to dwell on the matter. Matthew’s life was more important than any feelings she might have for Royce. With that thought firmly in mind, she asked, “Should I trust Gunnell?”

  Before he could answer, a quiet knock sounded at the door.

  “Here she be,” Hugh announced from the doorway, his hand holding the healer’s arm, disapproval written on his face.

  The woman looked normal, much to Alyna’s relief. She appeared to be a little older than Alyna, but perhaps that was only due to a hard life. A wimple hid her hair, and her stout form was clothed in a plain brown woolen tunic. She carried a wooden box tucked under her arm. It reassured Alyna to think the woman had come prepared. “Thank you for coming, Gunnell.”

  The woman tugged her elbow away from Hugh’s grasp, gave a quick curtsy to Alyna and Royce, then went to Matthew’s bedside. She briefly touched his head, then his chest, and finally the wrapped wound. In a calm and steady voice, she announced, “He will live, but he has a battle before him.”

  Surprised at her quick prognosis, given without examining the injured knight, Alyna sent a puzzled look at Royce. One corner of his mouth lifted, something vaguely resembling a smile. Hugh, on the other hand, looked horrified.

  Alyna realized neither man would offer any help in interpreting the healer’s pronouncement. “Gunnell, what do you mean by this?”

  A blush rose up the woman’s cheeks, and she stammered a response. “I–I believe he will survive this wound, my lady, nothing more.” Obviously uncomfortable, she set her chest on the bed, opened it, and took out several small pouches.

  The maid had all the things Alyna had requested as well as more linen strips to bind the wound.

  Alyna removed the blood-soaked bandages, relieved to see the bleeding had slowed. With Gunnell’s competent assistance, Alyna slowly removed bits of mail and linen from the injury, relieved Matthew was unconscious rather than moaning in pain as she poked and prodded.

  Gunnell handed her a small pot. “Oil.”

  Alyna nodded in understanding, and then dabbed a light coating of it on the area surrounding Matthew’s wound.

  “What purpose does that serve?” Hugh asked.

  “It keeps the herbs from sticking,” Alyna answered. With Gunnell’s supplies, she made a healing poultice of thyme, mustard, hot water, wine and milk then applied it. She wrapped his shoulder in linen strips to hold the poultice in place.

  “Well done, my lady. You have a fine touch,” Gunnell commented, her gaze steady on Alyna’s.

  “Thank you,” Alyna said. It was nice to have another healer’s approval. “The broken bone should heal as it appears to be in alignment.”

  “Aye. Lucky for him that we don’t have to set it. I’ll leave this with you for his pain,” Gunnell said and handed another small clay pot to Alyna. “You’ll need to add some wine to it and get him to drink it.”

  “Excellent. Do you have something for a fever as well?”

  At last, Gunnell prepared to leave. Without warning, she grasped Alyna’s hand for a brief moment and stared hard into her eyes. As Alyna watched, the healer’s pupils dilated. In a quiet tone, she told Alyna, “Your destiny has not yet changed.” She squeezed Alyna’s hand before releasing it, almost as though she knew this was not what Alyna had wanted to hear. “I would like to meet the boy.”

  Mouth agape, Alyna stood frozen in shock.

  The healer tucked her box under her arm and turned toward the door. “I’ll return later to check on the knight.”

  With a worried glance at Alyna, Hugh followed Gunnell.

  Stunned at the healer’s words, Alyna put a hand to her stomach to ease the sinking sensation there. What could Gunnell have meant? How had she known about Nicholas?

  Royce came up behind her and placed his hands on her arms. “What did she say to upset you so?”

  Well aware of how closely he watched her, she did her best to regain her composure. “Nothing. ’Twas nothing.”

  “‘Nothing’ would not have you this up
set.” He turned her to face him, his hands still holding her.

  She shook her head and attempted a small smile. Though she knew she should step back, she remained where she was. His concern comforted her. Heat from his warm hands spread up her body to her cheeks, and she bowed her head to hide the flush he could surely see.

  But he did not allow it. He lifted her chin with a gentle finger. “Alyna, tell me what she said,” he demanded.

  She swallowed, determined not to make a fool of herself by throwing her arms around his neck and holding tight. She would not lean upon him. She couldn’t. He was not for her. “She told me my destiny had not changed, and she’d like to meet the boy.”

  His brow furrowed. “Do you know what she meant?”

  “Aye, I think I do.”

  He rubbed her arms lightly. “Do not put too much credence in the things she says.”

  “Why?”

  Royce shrugged. “None of us really understand Gunnell.”

  Alyna bit her lip. If he thought Gunnell was crazed, what would he think of Nicholas as his second sight emerged? Though he’d shown only minor evidence of his ability, she knew it was only a matter of time. Nothing was more important to her than protecting Nicholas, including her feelings for this handsome knight. The day would come when someone called Nicholas crazed. The thought itself was nearly more than she could bear, but what if that person were Royce?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Bites from rabid dogs can be treated

  with wild rose, but I wonder if

  effectiveness improves with a full moon.”

  Lady Catherine’s Herbal Journal

  Matthew stirred, moaning as he moved.

  Royce glanced at the knight and then back at Alyna. Why did she seem suddenly distant? What had he said that closed her off from him?

  Matthew moaned again, and Alyna pulled away from Royce to see to the injured man.

  “This conversation is not finished, my lady.” Somehow, Royce felt he’d disappointed her, but he had no idea how. Frustrated, he joined her as Matthew’s eyelids fluttered open. His gaze rested first upon Royce, then upon Alyna. Royce recognized the glaze over his eyes, for he had seen it many times and had felt it for himself. Pain.